trust (lyn)

Ithaca is known for its natural beauty, vineyards, and farms.   I want to stop and pick up some local vegetables on my drive home.  Along route 79E, I see a little farm stand, cast from a Norman Rockwell painting.  I pull off the road and walk over.

Everything is gorgeous, as are the prices.  My favorite pint of small yellow tomatoes are $2.50; I pay $4 at the Saturday Farmer’s Market near my home. I also get some corn, heirloom tomatoes (only $2/pound), and something I’ve never seen, a small yellow watermelon.  It’s only $1.  After I select my produce, I look around for someone to pay.  Instead of a person, I see only a sign:

Unbelievable.  It's self serve.  I’m expected to choose what I want, weigh it, figure out what to pay, and slip my money into a little lock box on the shelf.  Exact change is required.  It’s good that the staff from 16 Handles isn’t running this stand or they’d be a tip jar!

I think of the child I just left.  Will he hear my voice urging him on to do the right thing?  To not drink too much at parties?  To not get upset if the grade he gets on his first paper is disappointing?  To choose his friends carefully?  To take the initiative in making things happen?  To not wait until the last minute to do his work?  To read his emails every day and respond when he gets them?  To take advantage of all that Cornell offers?  To explore?  To take academic risks? To appreciate the bigger things in life and let go of the smaller ones?  To be careful and stay safe? 

Alexander is 18.  He is a good person.  He no longer needs someone watching over him every step of the way.  I believe he will make good decisions.  It's time to let go and trust the wonderful child I raised.